


Baby

by LiberAmans214



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Autophilia, Baby looks like Chris Pine by the way, But they don't really know it ehh, Castiel Loves Dean Winchester, Castiel and Dean Winchester Need to Use Their Words, Crack Relationships, Crack Treated Seriously, Dean Winchester Loves The Impala, Destiel - Freeform, Destiel Freeform, Eventual Smut, Fluff and Humor, Gabriel is responsible but shhh they don't know it yet, Gen, General, Happy Ending, Human Male Impala (Supernatural), Jealous Castiel (Supernatural), M/M, Maybe - Freeform, Multi, POV Dean Winchester, Sam is disgusted, Third Wheel Sam Winchester, Threesomes, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester, or maybe fourth wheel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-01
Updated: 2019-06-01
Packaged: 2020-04-06 00:00:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19051153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LiberAmans214/pseuds/LiberAmans214
Summary: Cars are Not Naturally slutty. Except when they are, they WILL fight you, for the angel who's yourkind-of-but-not-reallyboyfriend.Dean's life turns into a hilarious nightmare, when his car comes alive, as aman.Apparently he's been calling a 6-feet tall, blond man 'Baby' his whole life ~ the only being in his life who might even know him better than Sam. And then, Baby refuses to reply if Dean calls him anything except that, which brings us to how Cas first meets the Impala-turned-man, practically pressed up against a furiously blushing Dean Winchester.Until they can learn how to turn Baby back - Dean needs to keep his carawayfrom Castiel, who's borderline clueless, or so it seems. And that may very well include, accompanying the two most important non-blood-related men in his life on a dinner date, where there's conversations on being in themiddle,which must definitely be a metaphor, huh?





	1. "Why don't you get to the bottom of this, and you can go back to riding me?"

**Author's Note:**

> I must mention that this work shall not _just_ include Dean coming to terms with his bisexuality and feelings for Cas, but also hilariously discovering that maybe he loves his car a _bit_ too much.
> 
> Purely for crack purposes, I plead.

“What!? You’re what, now?”

“Baby.” The dark-haired man in front of Dean Winchester, turned to face him full, his skin lit up by the dim lights of the motel room, allowing Dean to make out his sturdy jawline, smooth as the aluminium of his car’s edges; his smirk exuding confidence yet mirth, as it dangled from a corner of beestung lips. “For the third time now, Dean. I’m your Baby.”

“No, that’s ridiculous! Baby’s right there -” His legs seemed to finally have regained the capacity to walk, and he hurried to the window and pulled the curtain to show this strange man that his Baby was right out there - “Holy shit, what have you done to my car?” He took a step towards him, glaring at the man, almost the same height as him. “Where is it!?”

Dean gauged the situation, he could take this man down if a fight were to happen. One kick to the knees, and he’d buckle if taken by surprise, and then the rest of it would be a piece of cake when Dean had him at a loss. But the man may have been slim to the extent of being called slender, he had a built like he’d been through some scenes. Dean didn’t want to fight him, for the sake of it.

But if it came to his car -

“I do not understand why you aren’t trying to believe me, Dean.” The man closed the rest of the gap, by walking right up to Dean, his eyes lidded slits of a stormy grey. Almost silver. “I’m it. I’m your car! I don’t know how it happened, and that’s your business to find out, but I’m it!”

Dean was at a loss of words. He’d heard a lot of crap. But no man had ever walked up to him that convincingly and declared that he was Dean’s car.

“You want me to prove it?” He challenged, taking a slight step back, a sudden grin showing up.

“How would you do that?” Dean narrowed his eyes. “No funny business, you get it? I’m not closing my eyes and sitting in a closet so that you can transform back into a car.”

“That’s the thing, I can’t do that.” He deadpanned, and if what he’d just been saying hadn’t been utter crap, Dean would’ve begun to believe him at this point. “But, I don’t need you to do anything. You need proof I’m your Baby? Well. What is something I could tell you?”

He raised an eyebrow.

“There are, of course, the multiple ‘sexcapades’ I know of, would you like me to,” He paused, and cleared his throat, his words trailing off. It was his turn to speak.

Dean swallowed, uncomfortably. “Its not like me having a one-night-stand is any new fucking news. I’m a dirtbag, who sleeps around with girls. Kind of in my life description.”

“Yeah,” The man shrugged, like he wouldn’t argue to that. “But what about that time, huh?”

“W-what are you, uh, talking about?”

“Yeah, exactly what you’re thinking about.” He winked. “You went to many lengths to keep that a secret affair. Even Sam doesn’t know. But hey, the car against which you sucked -”

“What, no!” Dean’s eyebrows shot up.

“- against which you two did whatever,” The man looked satisfied. “Would know, wouldn’t I?”

“How the fuck did you -” Dean started. He wasn’t going to hesitate in hitting this man anymore. “I dunno what kinda fuckery this is, but I swear -”

“I can even tell you the date.” He blinked, looking the opposite of threatening. Just, satisfied with himself. “But I doubt you’d remember it. Or, do you?”

“I, uh..” His cheeks burned and it felt like there was thunder in his heartbeat. “Tell, just tell me the date.” He tumbled over the words.

He did.

Dean fell back into a chair, his mouth dry and his upper lip sweating. This was crazy. It was impossible. How could it be?

“Are you,” He mouthed weakly. “Are you really -”

“What else do you need me to tell you before you actually believe me?” He put his hands on his waist, shifting his waist to the other hip.

“But, Baby’s a girl -”

“How would you know?” He squinted.

“Well, I call her baby -”

“Huh.” The man - Baby - frowned. “Your bad, I guess. You can call me Baby. In fact, I insist on it.” There was a gleeful expression on his face.

“…there’s no way I’m calling you that.” Dean drew back.

“But you had no issues to it when I was a car,” He side-eyed Dean. “And you shouldn’t have any now.”

Dean was at a loss. He buried his face in his hands, and groaned. This was crazy. Was he dreaming?

“I really don’t see why you’re so disturbed by it,” He cajoled, coming closer and making Dean look up at him. Shit, he was good looking. At least, that part Dean had got right. “I’m still Baby. I don’t wanna be,” He pointed to himself. “I want us both to get back to what we were! I am just asking for help, and you know what, that’s what you should be more worried about. How this happened.”

“Give me a minute,” Dean rolled his eyes, but didn’t look down from him. He was standing right next to Dean’s chair, and so close Dean’s face was almost against his shirt. “My car wants me to believe she’s a he, and I’ve already had a long fucking day to deal with this.”

He smirked. “Its not like I’m asking you to be friends with me. You wanna get back to driving your car too, right?”

That probably helped extinguish Dean’s desire to stay rooted at his spot until Sam came, and resolved some of this. “Yeah, obviously. If you’re, uh, Baby, then you do make a damn good car.”

The latter smiled, smug but familiar. “I know. So get to the bottom of this, so that I can go back to being a car, and you can go back to riding me.”

Dean almost choked on that. Fuck.

“Please don’t, uh.” He squirmed.

“Call it that?” A pleased grin.

“Yeah.”

He shrugged, and leaned towards Dean some more, his face next to Dean’s ear. “I won’t. But I only respond to Baby, so -”

“I,” Dean began.

There was a sound at the door. Shuffling of feet, hustling of clothes - finally, Sam - and the knob being worked on.

“Move!” Dean hissed at him, who was still standing right next to him.

“What, now?” He raised his eyebrows, straightening but staying stuck at his side.

“Move! There’s someone at the door, you sonuvabitch -” He rushed, standing up himself, but ending up even closer against him. He let out a frustrated gasp, as the lock clicked in the door, cornered against the wall and his fucking car.

“Not until you learn what to call me.” He squinted defiantly.

“What the -”

The door swung open.

Oh.

He stayed glued to Dean, almost immovable for how slim he was.

“What do you call me, Dean?” He whispered, one last time, as a figure entered the room, taking it all in.

It wasn’t Sam.

“Fine! Baby, move away!” Dean hissed, shoving himself away too. He looked up.

Cas moved away too.

A fine irony.

“I,” Cas looked at the two of them, his eyes wide, his frown consistent. “This,” The frown gave way to something more urgent and annoyed, maybe even shocked. “I,” He repeated, his voice even heavier than it usually was and that’s saying something.

“Cas,” Dean took a step towards him.

And Cas moved back, his expression settling on bewildered. Horrified, even. “I,” He repeated.

And that’s when it struck him.

Cas had just walked into a room, and seen a random stranger pretty much pressed up against Dean, and then heard Dean call him that as they separated.

“Cas!” Dean began, tensed.

“Uh.” Cas let out, extremely understanding.

“Hey, you.” Baby interjected, advancing towards Cas and greeting, provocative at best.

Cas ignored it. He looked straight at Dean. Then tilted his head to the side, his eyes flashing vulnerable hurt, and almost murmured. “I came to say that the Impala is missing from the parking lot, and if Sam took it -”

“- wait, Cas -”

“- and its fine. You’re busy. I’ll ask Sam.” Cas staccatoed. “Its fine. I’m sorry to, uh, disturb.”

“Listen to me.” Dean marched forward and held Cas by his shoulders. “This is gonna sound strange. But I swear, just listen to me, this is. Uh. Baby.”

Cas glared back, with finality. “I’ll meet him later, if that’s fine with you, I need to be somewhere -”

“No!” Dean let out. “He is Baby! My car, the Impala! Its him.”

“… what? He’s what, now?”

“This is the Impala, Cas,” Dean stated with a sigh. Baby looked back at Dean with the slightest hint of a grin. 

“How did this happen?” Cas asked Dean, completely ignoring Baby. “That is the thing, we don’t know how or why this happened.” Baby said, looking at Cas.

Cas finally looked at Baby, squinting slightly. “Well, where is Sam?”

Baby raised his eyebrows, and began to speak in a remembering manner. “Oh, Sam! I completely forgot about him, sorry. He’s still at the police station where I left him, I’d say.”

“What?” Dean and Cas resounded, almost matching each other’s tones. Dean’s may have been a tad more annoyed, and he went on. “Where you left him?”

“Well, surely neither me nor Sam had any premonition, that I was not gonna be a car anymore.” Baby rolled his eyes, turning his head to face Dean, even as he stayed right next to Cas. “So yeah, he drove me there. I, uh, turned into this.” He looked down at himself. “And I began walking straight for the motel, to find you.”

“You could’ve just told Sam, first.” Cas interjected, still pissed, at least by the look of it.

“Probably,” Baby grinned. “But you can’t blame me for wanting to tell this guy first.”

It seemed as if that broke the ice between them. Cas almost chuckled, in an uncharacteristic manner, as he agreed. “Of course! Dean’s reaction would’ve been priceless! I mean, Sam loves the car -”

“- you mean, me -”

“ - yeah, but Dean takes it to another level.” It wasn’t that Cas sounded fond, that made Dean want to walk out of the room and not come back. It was their camaraderie. There was something about it. “The number of hours he’s spent fiddling with your parts, when absolutely nothing was wrong -”

“Its called maintenance.” Dean frowned.

Baby ignored him. “I know, he cares. I felt all of those.” And that made Dean want to bury himself again, because the scope of puns here was killing him. Especially since he was the butt of those jokes. Cas gratefully seemed to not understand, but Baby surely did, because he was smirking again, the corner of his lips curling. “But, you,” he grinned, and this time, it was just for Cas, but Dean furrowed his brows and looked on. “You’re welcome to come, uh, maintain me too. It’d be fun.”

“I would, but I’m not an expert like Dean.” Cas confessed, the innuendo still going over his head, even while Dean squirmed. “I could join him sometime, if you wanted, though. He could teach me -”

“- how to take care of me.” Baby finished, almost too obvious. He took another step towards Cas, standing as close to him as he’d been to Dean, merely minutes back.

Cas, oblivious, nodded with a smile.

Dean couldn’t take it anymore. “Sam!” He sprang up, butting in and almost physically pushing the two of them apart. “We need to get to Sam!”

“He’s not in any danger, Dean.” Baby scowled at having been made to move. “It’s the police station.”

“Well, let’s not make him walk home, in this vampire-infested town, by himself.” Dean snapped back.

“Since you,” Cas spoke up, looking at Baby. “Can no longer be driven, let’s take my car.”

“Yeah,” Baby moved out of Dean’s front to face Cas, and give him a thumbs-up. “She’s almost as beautiful as her owner.”

For probably the first time, Cas noticed. He tilted his head to the side, squinting more than usual as he replied, “Huh.” And walked away, like the reigning king of socially normal behavior he was.

Dean turned to Baby, as soon as Cas was out the door. “What is wrong with -”

“- I was just kidding. The car sucks big-time, compared to me.” Baby shrugged, and put his hands in his leather jacket. “But, you’ve gotta agree. He’s cute. Even better looking up front.”

He said it in a way, that made Dean squeeze his eyes shut again. The other angle in which Baby had seen him was probably -

“That’s not my point.” Dean groaned, dismissing his point. “What are you even doing? You do realize you’re flirting with Cas, and not even doing it subtly, right?”

He just shrugged again, and his hair bounced. “Your point is?”

“Well, I was beginning to worry if all cars are naturally slutty,” Dean sarcastically threw back. “Good to know its just my car.”

“Dean.” He bit his lip. “Its not as cars are like their owners. Exhibit, your Angel and his Lincoln Continental. But, maybe I’m a little like you in the sense that, he’s my type.”

“Who, Cas!?”

Baby nodded, his eyebrows in his hair. “Good thing is, I’m his type too.” Dean opened his mouth to protest, state the most obvious fact, that he was a car. Baby shut him up before he could voice it. “Nu-uh, I’m not talking about that. Look at me.”

Dean had been looking all this while. He didn’t need to be told.

“Tall and blonde, check. Kansas origin? Check. Handsome? Check.” He winked, and Dean swallowed. “I even materialized wearing a leather jacket and jeans just like yours, instead of butt naked, like one would’ve thought.” He added, playfully at best.

Dean would’ve choked on something, if he were given the opportunity to. But Baby went on.

“And, Dean? Believe you me, it’s his type.”

“You’re -” Dean tried, but there were no words, in his brain. “I -”

The sound of a car’s horn interrupted them.

“That’s his car.” Baby pulled back, and ran a hand through his hair, before walking towards the entrance. “And, don’t look so terrified Dean, I’m still your Baby.”

Dean blinked.

“And he’s still your Cas. You’re always gonna be both of our first choice,” Baby added, as if that was what Dean was worried about. “But sometimes priorities are meant to be messed with.”

“That’s not what I was worried about -” Dean muttered.

“No? Well, then those were some crazy mixed signals, you were sending. Fortunately Castiel is as dense as he’s good-looking, and I’ve been dealing with your mixed signals since you were 15 years younger.”

“I never -” Dean tried. But seriously, what was his argument? He followed Baby out the door with a look on his face, which probably no one but Sam would be able to notice, to mean, crazier than usual. Maybe he was dreaming this shit up.

“I call shotgun!” Baby spoke, pulling him out of his reverie, as the man who now seemed to resemble him quite a bit if he paid attention, slid in next to Cas in the front.

“I cannot -” Dean whispered, in the depth of his throat, to no one in particular but the voice in his head. Which was going nuts, as it is. Because it’d just said something on the lines of, huh. Those two look great together. Bet you’d look good sandwiched right in between.

Oh my God. He was officially nuts.

*


	2. "I have faith in radio stations."

A friend on Tumblr, @awkward-penguin-in-a-trenchcoat made me this! And I love it <3

***

“Dean,” Sam called, but to Dean it was like the voice in the back of his head which he’d gotten so good at ignoring. “Dean!” Dean swatted in Sam’s general direction, still not peeling his eyes off the pair.

Cas and Baby, sent to get a bunch of burgers, looked like they were having the time of their life. And  _of course_ , Dean wasn’t imagining it, they were  _totally_ standing too close. And why did they need to keep touching each other?

“Dean! Are you coming or not?”

“Nu-uh,” Dean looked at his brother momentarily, with an irritated expression. “I’m staying right here -”

“- and watching Cas and - and  _Baby_  get lunch.” Sam completed, rolling his eyes.

“Whatever,” Dean grumbled, looking away properly for a while, because it seemed like Cas had caught him watching, and that was  _not_  okay. “I’m not going with you to the Reverend right now, Sammy, I’m not leaving those two alone. Take someone else.”

“Cas, you mean? You want me to take our resident angel, with the  _best_  ‘people skills’, to an orthodox church’s Priest?” Sam pursed his lips. “Or, should I take the one of us who was a car an hour back?”

“Stop speaking, I’m trying to read their lips.” Dean shushed. “And your bitching is all I can hear right now.”

Sam stared at his brother incredulously. He followed his gaze to the other two. Buying burgers. Simply buying  _burgers_. Where even was the catch?

Except for the part where Dean clearly was jealous of the both of them, because Cas got so much of Baby’s attention - the Impala was Dean’s car, it was  _Dean’s_ baby - or because Baby was hitting on Cas - and well, Cas was kinda  _Dean’s_ Cas.

Except for  _that_  part, which Sam couldn’t really bring up over lunch with Dean, because he was  _Dean_ , there was nothing wrong. They were standing at an appropriate distance. If Baby had his hand on Cas’s shoulder, it was just a friendly gesture.

So instead of saying something consequential, he responded, “I don’t even know what’s happening around here.”

There was a pause. Sam was more than sure that Dean didn’t hear him. Until Dean suddenly turned to Sam with a straight face which was too serious to be actually meant, and wide eyes.

“Talk to me! Come on! Laugh! Make conversation!” Dean stage-whispered. “They saw me!”

“What even…” Sam sighed, deciding to go along with it. “I said, I don’t even know what’s happening here. A normal vamp nest, a normal town, and suddenly, your car turns to a man!”

“I know, right?” Dean agreed, nodding enthusiastically, his eyes lighting up with the thought of having someone on his side. “Who would’ve known Baby’s a  _he_?”

Sam shrugged. “Nobody except you cared to allott a gender to it so, probably no one.”

Dean ignored the jibe. He stole a glance in their direction, and the other two were still stuck at the same spot in the waiting area. But they may have seen him, so he wasn’t willing to risk it.

“Dean.”

“What?” Dean whipped his head around, to look at Sam.

“Stop it, that’s weird. You’re a middle-aged man staring furiously at two guys across the joint.” Sam blinked. “Think about what it looks like.”

“Oh, shuddup.” Dean rolled his eyes, but kept looking at Sam for good now. “So, where were we? Oh yeah, Baby being a guy. Geez. He’s also kind of a dick, though.”

The kind of denial Sam had to deal with, in this entire family, was unheard of. He resisted the desire to scoff. “Did you just hear yourself? Dean. Its your Baby. You wouldn’t ever say that if he weren’t after Cas.”

Dean glared at him for a full moment, probably thinking of an appropriate response to that. At the end of his patience, he got up, almost red-faced. “Bitch.” He muttered, articulately, before storming off in the direction of Cas and Baby.

Sam mock-imitated his exposed expression when he looked away, to no one but his coffee mug, muttering a coy “Jerk” before taking a sip, and looking down at the police report from the latest murder again.

It wasn’t long before someone sat across him, but this time, it was the unfamiliar but still so old acquaintance.

“Hey, uh,” Sam voiced, smiling weakly. “Dean drove you away or?”

“No, but he said you needed me.” The shorter man was all enthusiastic, resembling Dean in every aspect of his behavior. And most of his appearance. Right down to the way he was dressed, excepting the plaid the Winchesters sported.

“I did?”

“Yeah, you need a partner to go interrogate the witness?” Baby reminded. “ _Of course_ , I volunteered.”

He leaned across the table, with a shit-eating grin and a bounce of his eyebrows. “I know we haven’t talked much since I, well,  _started_ talking, but its not like I don’t like you too.” Sam drew back. Baby didn’t budge, smiling more. “You’ve been with me most of the time they’ve been, and I -”

“ _No_.”

“No?” He assumed his original position, raising his eyebrows.

“I mean, nope. Absolutely not. No jokes, no puns, no nothing.” Sam moved his hands while he explained. “I will not be a part of this.”

“Part of what?” Baby clearly understood, but he kept grinning.

“This - this  _weird-ass_  autophillic, celestial-terrestrial kinda-polygamous thing you three’ve got going here.” Sam declared. “I’m  _not_  in.”

“Don’t worry,” He laughed, pleasant and steady, throwing his head back. “That wasn’t what I was going for either.”

He paused. Sam waited. He winked, and added the inevitable, proud of himself.

“Also,  _four_  would just be messy.”

*

Of course, Sam chose to not go back with them. 

Dean didn’t know exactly what happened, but the look he shot their way, before saying that he needed to make some stops before going back to the motel and would walk - Dean knew that look on his brother. It was the ever-assuring you-deal-with-your-shit-I’m-giving-space look. But still, Dean could’ve used some some company, sitting in the back again because, it didn’t strike him again to call shotgun. 

He knew how Cas felt now, in the back alone. But at least, Sam and he were civil enough to either include him in their conversations or not talk like normal human beings on a drive.

Dean crossed his arms across his chest, fighting off the urge to say something about how Baby was sitting in the middle of the seat instead of on his side, his annoyance fueled by the way they were exchanging driving tips and leaning towards the other when they wanted to say something. Like, he had even craned his neck to see if they were holding hands on the gear or something. Well they weren’t, or Dean Winchester would have officially thrown a fit.

“How about some music?” Baby suggested, not even waiting for a reply as he began digging in his jacket’s inner pocket.

“Cas doesn’t carry any good music.” Dean inputted.

“I have faith in radio stations.” Cas replied, too monotonous a tone to be sarcastic.

“Nevermind,” Baby produced a cassette. “I found something.” He pushed it in, and the car took a moment to read it, before music filled the air. It was Led Zeppelin.

“This is a great song,” Cas declared, practically bobbing his head along to the song. I have that cassette too. It’s Whole Lotta Love. I play it all the time. Never did that when I played it, Dean reasoned, but kept it to himself. Then it struck him.

“Wait!” He knitted his eyebrows in a frown. “Is that my cassette?”

“Where else do you think I’d get one?” Baby replied, sounding earnest as he looked at Dean skeptically. “Of course it’s yours.”

“And you, just, had it in your jacket?”

“They were all in me when I transformed, so I guess?” He smiled this time, and seemed to resume his search in his jacket. Soon producing another cassette, and adding with a smug look. “They’re all there, I can feel it.”

“This is nuts. Some sorta never-ending pocket. Straight outta cartoons.” Dean wiped his face with the back of his hand. “I’ll get all of them back, won’t I? When you get back to being my car?” Baby rolled his eyes, and nodded.

“What about the weapons?” Cas added, curious. “Are they in your jacket too?”

“Nah, these are all just the cassettes that were kept in the front.” Baby answered, seriously. He turned to face Dean. “Though I’m sure, that when I get back to being a car, you’ll get your arsenal back.”

“But we’re working a case!” Dean raised his voice. “We need those blades. And transforming you back to a car isn’t the priority right now! Those blood-sucking bastards are!”

Baby narrowed his eyes at him, almost pulling off an offended stance. “Stop blaming me! I don’t know where they are, either! So you can either go buy new guns and blades, or you could look for it in my pants!”

Cas let out a steady chuckle, while Dean flared red, and looked out the window wordlessly.

_You’ve been cooling_

_And baby I’ve been drooling_

_All the good times, baby_

“Hey, they just sang your name,” Cas joked, and it was now the latter’s turn to laugh.

Fucking  _bromancing_  like long lost friends or some shit, Dean fumed in his brain. He was gonna go crazy before he got used to this.

“Do you wanna know the story of how Dean began to call me that, Cas?” Baby asked, enthusiastically. Cas nodded, with equal zest. Dean groaned out loud, and sunk into the seat some more, not even trying to hide the annoyance anymore. “You don’t  _tell_ people that, you!”

***

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More crack, crack, crackitty-crack ~ I see a crack, crack, crackitty-crack! 
> 
> Enjoy, peeps! And if there's any suggestions as to their ship name (as I got a couple from Tumblr, but still can't decide) I'll incorporate it in Baby's dialogue somehow ;)
> 
> Keep it sailing!


	3. "How Important is the color of your toothbrush bristles?"

“I bet,” Baby began, leaning his head backwards with a pout, his bobbing adam’s apple in full display. “Cas would sound great purring.”

Dean choked.

Well, it felt like it. Before he could say something back, Sam cut them off, standing up hastily. “I absolutely cannot,” He narrowed his eyes, backing off literally. “I  _cannot_  take you three, anymore. I’m gonna go get a drink.”

“It’s 11 am.” Dean reminded.

“I’ve lost the ability to care, not tell time!” Sam snapped, and marched off, not even looking back at Dean and Baby, who were waiting for Cas to come back from the store, half-sitting on the hood of Cas’s car.

Baby looked at Dean with a playful smile. “Was it something I said right now?”

“No, its everything you’ve been saying all day.” Dean rolled his eyes.

“But I really do mean it.” He pouted again, his lower lip puckering up. “Think about it Dean, I know you’d understand way better than Sam ever could.” Dean shook his head in silent denial. “But just think about it! Cas, would sound amazing purring.”

“He’s not a  _cat_.” Dean took a sip of his beer, the bottle held to his lips even after. “He doesn’t purr.”

Baby looked at him, almost disappointed.

“He’s not a car either,” Dean added, ignoring him. “Engines purr and cats purr. Angels don’t.”

“Geez,” His disappointment was replaced by a disapproving look. “If after all these years, you don’t know how to make someone purr, I’m afraid there’s no hope left for you, Dean.” Dean narrowed his eyes. “ _My_  Dean, the one I thought I knew, could definitely have made an Angel purr, just as I did for him.” He added, teasing to the verge of being suggestive.

Combined with the raised eyebrows and the gentle tilt of his head which made the plane of his cheekbones even more striking against the dusking sun, he could bet Baby wanted him to think exactly where his brain had leapt to.

Dean drew in a breath, at the pun beneath the surface, trying his best to not react to it. “I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, you’re on the road to being disgusting.”

“I call ‘em pickup lines.” He retorted, scoffing. “And as a car, and as  _your_  car, I happen to be great with them. I’m  _charming_.”

“Sorry to burst your bubble,” Dean bit his lip. “You’re not.”

“You’re  _biased_ ,” He received as a reply, as Baby tossed his head and ran a hand through his hair. “They work like magic. Irresistible.”

Dean mocked his words, by repeating it in a falsetto. “'Irresistible’, my ass.”

“Why would I object to that, but let’s ask someone who’ll be impartial, shall we? There’s Cas.” He smiled wide and toothy, in his direction.

Sure enough, there was Cas, with a thoughtful expression as he approached them, his coat baggy on the rest of his form and his hands full.

“Cas!” Baby called, taking the bags from him, and promptly handing them to Dean. Who took them unthinking, and instantly regretted it, because why should he carry the bags to the trunk of the car, whilst Cas got flirted with. “I have something to ask you.”

Dean slid out of the scene, kinda, walking around the car to get to the trunk, and dump the supplies.

“Of course.” He heard Cas say, and could hear the smile in his voice. Dean rolled his eyes, at the car which was acting as cover for him, as he pretended to be busy with organizing the stuff or something. “What is it?”

“Okay, so.” Baby said, and Dean could bet he was wearing that charming smile of his. “I just wanted to say that, uh,  _before_  this is all over? We should go have dinner together.”

“We always do.” Cas replied, simply. “We have all our meals together, actually. Especially during hunts.”

“I’m sure you do but I meant it, like, just us.’

A moment passed. Cas said something that wasn’t audible to Dean. He began to stand up straight so he could hear better, but Baby spotted him.

“Dean!” He instantly addressed, making Dean grumble and look at him. “Could you go back to the store and get me a toothbrush, I completely forgot to tell Cas before.”

“You’re a car, you don’t need to -” Dean began dismissively, but Baby kept looking at him directly, willing him to go.

“Fine.” He snapped, and strode off to the store before he could hear any more of their conversation. He wasn’t exactly going to protest that he wanted to hear out this conversation, in front of Cas. The last thing he heard before getting out of hearing range was his name, somehow. He ignored it, and tried to stop thinking about it as he picked the first toothbrush from the rack and waited in line.

Outside, Cas repeated his words. “So, you mean  _us_ , as in you, me and Dean?”

“…sure?”

“Did I say something wrong?” Cas frowned.

“No, you got it exactly right.” The smile was back. “Me, you and Dean. Of course. Exactly the way I thought, too.”

“But,” Cas worried his lip. “Won’t Sam be lonely?”

“Uh, we could always find him a date  _too!”_

As always, it was late, and with that ’ _too_ ’ that Cas understood how he meant it. He thought about it for a minute - if Baby was asking, surely he and Dean had talked about it before. Cas was more than a little open to the idea. He didn’t really see any reason to object, so he nodded, complying. “Well then, I don’t see why not.”

“Awesome.” The other man replied enthusiastically, stuffing his hands in his pockets, and grinning. “Also, did I -” He paused midway of telling Cas he looked good today, remembering that he needed to get this piece of news to Dean first. “Cas, I  _just_  remembered, I should go tell Dean what kind of  _bristles_  I need.”

One of the lamest excuses, but Cas wouldn’t really question any excuse he made. He knew how to give everyone their  _space_  to indulge themselves. True enough, the trenchcoated angel nodded, emphatically. He hardly understood humans and their strange needs yet, how was he expected to understand an ex-automobile’s?

“I’ll be back in a minute.” Baby promised, dashing into the Gas ‘N Sip where Dean had gone in just minutes ago.

 _Do the colors of the toothbrush really matter so much_ , Cas wondered to himself, before going to the back of his car and beginning to set the items in a more orderly fashion so as to be the least affected when the car was driven. Dean could never quite gotten it right, and the liquids would spill and the jam would squash the bread while the pie took up its own position of royalty in the farthest and most secure spot.

Back in the store, Baby found Dean at the cash counter.

“What?” Dean shoved the freshly purchased toothbrush at the other man’s chest, immediately drawing his hand back at making contact with lean muscle through a thin fabric. “Wait a second, what are you wearing? Why aren’t you  _cold_  in whatever-that-is?”

“I guess I’m warm-blooded now,” He received as a smartass response, as Baby fingered the fabric of his V-neck -  _wait_ , it wasn’t even a Henley or Polo, it was a downright  _vest._

“Remind me to give you more layers when we get to the room.” Dean glared at him, incredulously.

“Really?” They’d gone off-topic by now, and Baby flicked his jacket open to examine his own outfit which he hadn’t paid attention to yet clearly. A single minute of investigation informed the both of them that it wasn’t even long-sleeved. It was a fucking sleeveless vest.

On their way out of the doors of the store, Dean remarked. “Whoever dressed you up after turning you into a man, sure was a perverted ass.”

“Or he just had an eye for fashion.” Baby threw back. “I look good! This is what I’m wearing to our date -  _oh_ , that reminds me -”

“- of what?”

“So, I asked him out, right? For a date dinner thing.” His eyes shone, proud of his next declaration. “Cas was into it.”

Dean swallowed, his eyes stormy. “He was…what?”

Baby smirked, the already familiar look on him, his expression every bit as smug as he sounded. “And,” He paused, for effects. “ _His_  idea,  _not_  mine; but  _you’re_ , sort of, part of it now.”

Dean did a double-take. “I’m  _what!?”_

“Oh, come on. Don’t ruin this for me,” Baby side-eyed him. “Come with, and give us company. Can’t you faux-third-wheel for the sake of me getting laid, Dean?”

“…I need to sit.” Dean muttered under his breath. And for that minute, Baby dropped it. But later, he’d ask again and Dean, more possibly than not would give in.

Because who can say no to that, when your car’s batting his eyelashes and looking at you so hopeful?

And also kinda because,  _why not?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Keep It Sailing! I'm Sheya, and you're still reading this crack!fic for some reason, kids. If you have something better to do, you really should get to it. The next chapter is even weirder.


	4. "Worried about being set up? Keep a lookout for Sam."

“I could’ve done good,” Baby grumbled, his chin in his palm as he sat on the white wicker chair next to Dean, in the outdoor cafe while Sam and Cas talked to the second witness. “I just needed another chance.”

“When the Priest asked you your religion, you made a joke about Vicecity.” Dean reminded, smirking a little because he could, and he was so past  _that_  stage. “You needed more than  _a_  chance.”

“I’m sorry, but they didn’t mention it in my finishing school for muscle cars.” Baby threw back.

“As if I did a thesis on witness-interrogation for my Hunting 305 class at community college.” Dean replied, but there was no sharpness in his tone. Mere humor. Baby made a sound that sounded increasingly like a whine, and Dean was satisfied.

“You really have no idea what you’re missing out on,” Baby suddenly said, all serious.

“What?”

“I mean Cas, Dean.  _Cas_.” He repeated, turning his eyes back to the trench-coated angel, looking much shorter than he was supposed to, next to Sam, standing stiff and wide.

Dean could feel the impending lecture in the air. About Cas. About how he and Dean should solve their differences and like, get together or some shit. He’d gotten enough of those, combined with disapproving looks from Sam, on the nights they let loose and hung out together drinking. But before he could reply to that which wasn’t said yet, he was cut off.

Baby was talking about something else. “His  _wings_ , Dean. His magnificent wings.”

“What? You - you can  _see_  them?”

“No, but if you try hard enough, you can feel them.” He justified. “At least, I could feel them.”

Dean was quiet, because he knew the other wanted to keep speaking.

“When its just him in the back, like most of the time? He lets them sprawl over the seat. And  _I_  can feel it. Its a tingling feeling, but it’s there.” He paused. “He never sits on them, you know.”

“Well, one would  _think_ that he wouldn’t  _sit_ on his wings, right?” Dean pinched his eyebrows together.

“I mean,” He chastised. “It’d be so much easier, if he just folded them up or something. But, no. He never hurts them, he’d never ruin it.”

Dean blinked. “That’s…something.”

“That’s impressive.” Baby corrected. “And, of course you know, he’s so  _fast_.” He let out a whistle.

The tone was different.

The almost reverent tone was replaced by admiration. Maybe attracted, even. “When he  _flies_ , Dean, he’s something else. I can’t see him, he isn’t in our dimension when he does it, but can’t you  _feel_ it too? Like, damn. That’s fast.”

Of course, Baby would like  _speed_. That part was kinda obvious.

But Dean had thought about it many times before, too. He knew Cas was an angel, even though he not have even half of his powers anymore, and none of that personality. He knew his best friend had  _wings_ , he knew that he once  _flew_. With the birds in the sky, maybe the aeroplanes even higher, through the clouds and through the skies, Cas had flown. Faster than all of them.

It was an exciting thought.

Now, though. Dean hurt as much as anyone else did when he thought of Cas’s lost wings. The loss of his ability to fly. He couldn’t imagine what that’d be like. It’d be even worse than losing Baby.

“And when he lost them,” Baby went on, almost in sync with Dean’s head. “I saw how he troubled he was. He had trouble sitting in all that place so empty, by himself. I was there all those moments that you were, Dean,” He paused, serious again. “Maybe you were looking away but I wasn’t, and I saw his heart break each time something reminded him of flight.”

 _No, I was looking too._ Dean wanted to say. But he nodded and made a sad noise in his throat.  _I just didn’t know what to say._

“I may just be a  _car_ ,” Baby went on and Dean was surprised at the insecure, humble edge to his ever-confident tone. “I may not be a match for wings of any kind. But I swear, its not about being his wings. If only I could be his wheels.”

Dean listened, dumbstruck.

“That’s too  _literal_ a metaphor.” He almost choked on his own voice.

 _That’s my line_. His eyes added.

“Well, where were you when he needed to hear that?” Baby challenged, showing protest with a mutinous lip. He jutted out his chin. “You had a chance of saying it to him.”

A dark cloud went over their conversation. Dean replied, prompt and frowning. “I blew it, okay? I added to his hurt, was a shitty friend overall. I blew my chance.” Dean looked away, away from Baby, and away from Cas, metres away. “And I couldn’t have said it as prettily as you just did either, so  _there_.”

There was a moment of silence.

Followed by a rustle of fabric, and a hand on his shoulder. A hand, just a hand. But there. And giving him hope. Reminding him of home. Like the Chevy Impala ‘67 had always done.

“You,” Dean let out. “You’re  _really_  my car, aren’t you?”

“I’m your Baby, yes.”

“Well, Baby,” Dean said, in the same breath for the first time, sounding like he meant it. “Couldn’t you just have, like, given me those lines  _then_? Through the speakers or something?” He smiled, bringing the focus back to lighter matters. “Been my wingman once more, like you’ve been since I  _started_  picking up one night stands at 18?”

“What can I say?” Baby smiled, and his fingers around Dean’s shoulder squeezed. “I’m just a  _car_ , Dean.”

“Just a car,” Dean repeated, mockingly. “Are you kidding me, Mister-really-sucky-puns?”

“Well, right  _now_ , I’m not just a car. Probably this time tomorrow, I’ll be one again.” He grinned, standing up. “I’m gonna go join ‘em. You coming?”

“Are you,” Dean groaned, standing up. “Are you gonna use that line on him?”

“Well now that you’ve  _verified_  that it’s a good line, I’ve gotta, don’t I?” He smirked, back in his stride. “They say, there’s no such thing as a missed opportunity for a pick-up line.”

“You’re such a -” Dean rolled his eyes. “And I’m not even gonna ask who they is, because its probably 16 year old me.”

“Nah, you were 23.” He laughed. “At sixteen, you were not a hundredth as much of a 'player’ as you think.  _I_  should know.”

“Just go.”

 _Just go hit on my guy, and be done with it._  Dean wished he could say it out loud, even in a joking tone, to the man -  _car_ -  _one_  who probably knew him the best, after his brother. But of course he couldn’t. That needed like many more years of character development before he could call Cas that out loud.

“And shut your face.” He added, because well, he’s Dean, son of John Winchester, isn’t he? “Don’t bother Cas too much.”

Rolling his eyes, Baby strolled off, smoothly leaving Dean frowning behind, with parting words of the most annoying kind. “You wouldn’t kick my ass or anything even if I did.  _Sure_ , he’s  _Cas_. But  _I’m_  still your Baby, and you’re kind of a sap so you love me too.”

Dean swore under his breath, and to not give him the pleasure of having won the round, determinedly didn’t respond.

**

Dean walked towards the decided restaurant, a small-ish place, which probably didn’t serve too much alcohol. Beer, though, would definitely be available.

Well, it would have to work, wouldn’t it? Because he sure as hell needed some booze in his system to get through this evening.

This date.

With Cas. And  _Baby_.

He didn’t even know why he was doing this. He could’ve said no - well, theoretically, at least. He could’ve spent the night at a bar, instead of this diner. With strangers he’d forget the next day - instead of people who actually meant something to him. Maybe even back at the motel, where Sam was, forcing Sam to watch crappy TV with him, instead of look for more cases.

But here he was.

He pushed open the door, the fluorescent 'Open’ sign swinging as he did, and looked around for familiar faces.

His eyes found Cas, sitting by himself on a table for four, doing absolutely nothing except looking at the squeezy ketchup bottles, arranged neatly on the table.

Dean sighed, as he made his way over to him. He’d noticed Cas had his trench coat off, but the rest of him was the same. He looked good, of course, but not as though he dressed up for a date.

Of course, Dean hadn’t done anything either. It’d been a randomly spontaneous decision to shave at six in the evening, or replace his old red flannel, with a slightly less worn green one. Of course.

A flicker of a thought went through him, as a scene went through his head. He’d once gotten Cas -  _Steve_ , actually - dressed up for a date. (More like dressed down, but okay.)

Well, Cas clearly hadn’t remembered any of it. Sure, the obnoxious blue vest was absent, but the blazer and tie was pretty much his uniform. Not a Gas 'N Sip uniform - kinda like his custom hunting attire.

In any case, the buttons were all done, all the way to the second, and the collar was fairly formal with the tie blocking any sliver of skin, which may otherwise have been visible.

No big deal. Dean too had folded up his sleeves, for just the heat.

“Hey,” Dean sat down across Cas, and the latter looked up at him. “Reading the ingredients of ketchup, are ya?”

“No,” Cas smiled, wider than the joke was funny and deserved. Dean was pleased, and he instantly mirrored it. “I know what tomato ketchup is made of.”

“Vegetables,” Dean clicked his tongue, and winked, referring an older joke, of a simpler time. Cas nodded, remembering surely, and there was quiet for a moment.

“Where’s,” Dean cleared his throat, and forced the warm comfort of this setup -  _with_   _Cas_  - away, with his next words. “Where’s Baby?”

Cas shrugged. “He’s not been with me for a while now.”

Dean blinked. “But -”

“He had something to attend to.” Cas recalled.

“He’s my  _car_ ,” Dean narrowed his eyes, suspiciously. “What business would he have, something that he couldn’t ask  _me_  - or you, or Sam - for?”

Cas was surprisingly relaxed. He didn’t even have his squint on. “I don’t know, Dean, but nevermind. At least you’re here.”

Dean succeeded in not blushing, but it was a heroic effort.

Sure, he and Cas had some unresolved tension, going for pretty long now; but blatant lines and declarations was not their type of gesture. He was not used to Cas softly looking at him, and telling him that he was glad Dean showed up to their date. This was not up his alley.

“Heh,” He stammered. “You hungry? I sorta am. I’m gonna go order, alright? Will get you whatever I have, minus the extras.”

Cas began to say something, seemingly to tell Dean that there was a waitress around who’d take their order, but Dean was on his feet and on his way to the main counter.

He leaned on it with his elbow, and did not look back at Cas, lest he should lose it and freak out again. He waited his turn, while the lady spoke to another customer.

It was in another moment, and when his eyes fell on a clock that showed twelve past seven, that a strange thought struck him.

Why wasn’t Baby here yet? Fashionably late doesn’t really fit into this scenario, of having a diner-made dinner with 2 guys you just hunted vampires with, supposedly a date.

Could it be that - and Dean melted against his resolve and stole a glance at Cas, who wasn’t looking at him anymore - Could it be that Baby set them up?

Was he gonna ditch them for the entire evening? Was this - was this a whole plot to get Cas and him on a date?

Okay, Dean was probably overcalculating the facts he had, and overinterpreting. But, the idea suddenly seemed fitting. Why else would Baby not be there? Why else, would he invite  _Dean_  to a date, for  _him_  and Cas? Why else would he insist on his coming too? Why would -

Wait - what if he  _was_  right?

What then?

Dean bit his lip, and the lady behind the counter, in a waitress’s uniform and a customer-service smile, finally turned to him. Dean stammered over his order, his head swarming with a million possibilities.

Even their table now seemed like it was a table for two - probably two considerably large men. But  _two_.

She told him that he could go sit, they’d get the order to the table.

He nodded weakly, paid with a tip, and turned back to get to his table.

He was all prepared to propose his theory to Cas - live up to his name, and make the already awkward situation more so - and gauge his reaction. Hell, he was kinda prepared for a full evening, just with Cas. Who knew? Sometimes Dean’s courage surprised him, and most of that was around Cas, for obvious reasons.

But as soon as his eyes trailed up to their table, he was stumped.

Baby was there.

He stared, his jaw slack and eyebrows raised, more disappointed than he’d ever admit aloud. In the matter of minutes, it was as if he’d gotten his hopes raised. Baby was right there, sitting next to Cas, squeezed into the same seat as him, their shoulders touching, talking in his usual animated manner.

“Welcome back,” Baby greeted Dean with a toothy smile, as Dean took his spot. “Sorry I’m sorta late.”

“Yeah,” Dean wondered if he’d have trouble hiding his disgruntled frown, but he forged a small smile and was good. Cas certainly looked more satisfied and settled now, with Baby’s arm slung around him - well, around the seat, but that was like the oldest trick in every guy’s playbook. “Where were you?” He asked, instead.

Baby shrugged, to avoid answering the question. Dean furrowed his brows and was about to repeat and prod, when Cas spoke up. “I think we were both beginning to wonder if you wouldn’t come.”

A smug smile spread across his face. “Oh, no. I wouldn’t miss  _this_ , for the World.” He gestured with his eyes, at the other two. “And not show up? What do you mean, like, you thought I invited you two on a date and ditched y'all?” His eyes fixed on Dean’s. “Set you up, or something?”

“No,” Dean began to protest, the lie ready on his lips.

“Don’t worry,” Baby leaned back, probably even leaned more towards Cas. As if there needed to be any less distance between them. “I wouldn’t do that kinda stuff. Like, I’m personally into this  _thing_ you two have going, but I’m not gonna meddle and make the move for you. You do you.”

Dean rolled his eyes, while Cas looked more surprised.

“If you wanted to be worried about getting set up, though,” He added. “Keep a lookout for Sam. His shipping is getting out of control, I heard Charlie say once.  _He_  could do this sorta thing, where he invites the both of you to a movie and then makes an excuse for himself.”

Dean glared at him, while Cas pursed his lips. “That happens. Often. Dean and I watch the movie, because Sam has great taste.”

Dean wished the floor would open up and swallow him. “Uh-huh,” He managed, flustered.

“And what, you dumbasses thought it was not a date, because?”

“Because it wasn’t.” Cas clarified, perfectly serious. “We didn’t ever call it that. We didn’t do date-things. It even ended with us going to our  _own_ rooms, and not with a kiss.” Cas spoke, in an adequately soft voice, as if somehow Dean wouldn’t hear it then.

Dean face-palmed, wondered what he’d done to deserve this, and the blood rushing to his cheeks made his blush prominent. “Goddammit, Cas.” He had half a mind to get up and depart, but it’s not like the other half of his head would ever give in to such a sane and healthy decision.

“Oh,  _hell_  yeah,” Baby laughed, throwing his head back. Both Dean and Cas’s eyes flitted to his bared neck and collarbones, with as much haste as they returned to each other, almost shy of being caught in the act. “I’m  _even_ more excited about this date now!”

**

And so, the evening went on. Stories were exchanged, and it was a light-hearted meal. Cas and Baby sat as if glued at the hip, and Dean ate more aggressively any moment he thought of it. There were bad jokes all around. Some more food. They didn’t budge away from each other. Dean got over it slowly. Okay, that was pretty much a lie. At one point during the date, Dean couldn’t take it anymore, and spoke up before he could shove those words down his gut like he’d been doing all evening.

“You realize this is a kid-friendly place, right?” He looked up at them. “I mean, you can stop sitting like there’s no space left in the entire diner.” He crossed his arms across his chest.

It was true. They together fit in the seat, which Dean could fill all by himself, if he tried or spread his legs.

Cas, almost curiously, looked at Baby - their faces unbelievably close - and the bastard  _shifted_  obligingly - probably an inch though. “You’re right.” He agreed, earnestly. He shuffled another inch. But only that much.

“Hey, I don’t mind,” Baby cajoled, and looked mischievously at Dean. “But, if Cas does, I could always sit next to Dean instead.”

“Don’t even,” Dean growled back.

“Well!” He threw his hands up, in mock exasperation. “There’s no other spot for me to sit? You want us move to a larger table for dessert, Dean?”

“Just pull a chair.” Dean rolled his eyes. “Sit on the third side.”

“Good idea.” Cas agreed, and the way he looked at Dean, so completely sincere and genuine, that Dean had to blink a bunch of times and look away, defeated. What was it about these two that made him go wild?

“Like, sit in the  _middle_?” Baby whined, eyeing the spot. “But, I’m not really the middle in this relationship, am I?” He added, wickedly.

There was a moment of silence.

Dean swallowed, his eyes strained on his plate.

Baby went on, his tone an edge of flirtation, with slick humor. “Why doesn’t  _Dean_  shift to the middle, huh, Cas?” Cas shrugged, and Dean thanked any luck he had, that Cas hadn’t said ‘good luck’ like the last time - because he’d go nuts.

“Your thoughts, Dean?” Baby winked straight at him, and for a moment, Dean’s eyes flickered between Cas’s and his faces, wearing opposite expressions but somehow synonymous, and you know what? This was probably how a stroke felt. He could swear his chest hurt. 

“You can fucking sit on top of each other, you jackasses.” He hissed, through his teeth, dedicating all of his attention to the food in front of him, as he drank his beer obstinately, from the bottle.

“We  _might_ ,” Baby led with a wink, again. “But is that a yes, on being in the middle?”

 _Jesus Christ_.

Dean Winchester regretted all of his life decisions that led him here. Everything. Every fucking little detail, that had brought him here, on a motherfucking  _date_ , sitting across the two most gorgeous men he’d ever laid eyes on. One, too damn straight-faced, the other the goddamn opposite. It was a deadly front, and Dean was terrified for himself.

Yeah. He regretted every damn thing he’d ever said, which had brought him here, and conveniently landed him the butt off all the bottom puns possible in this scenario.

“I’m gonna throw my fucking plate at your face, you son of a -” His voice rose with every syllable, until Baby was laughing again - smug-faced and satisfied, like the look he always got when Dean reacted out to something he pulled. Dean, a pissed scowl on his lips, continued to glare at Baby, who doubled up laughing each time their eyes met. Cas looked at Dean, and only Dean. A dedicated tilt of his head.

There was a slight tug at the corner of his lips. Dean knew he’d lose it if Cas ever outright smirked at him - but this was enough to fluster him. “But why?”

Huh, so the sonuvabitch  _understood_.

Dean passionately glared back, and it was enough to make Cas crinkle his eyes into an iconic smile, all dimples, gums and crowfeet. So, at the end of the day, it wasn’t Dean’s fault he was rendered speechless, and incapable of retorting. It was Cas’s.

**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My Tumblr post has encouraged me to go on, and it's given me too much power. If this work ends with crack-smut, you can't tell me you weren't all hoping for it. Okay, I need to stop. The next part's yet to be written, and comments urge me ahead, I've been told. KEEP IT SAILING!

**Author's Note:**

> Obviously the ficlet includes multiple gross-ish innuendos, and if you can think of any other autophilia-promoting threesome-inducing celestial-terrestrial lines, please send them to me [ here ](https://misha-moose-dean-burger-lover.tumblr.com).


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